MASH Forgive Me Not
by spookysister7
Summary: The Father meets his match. mul.other


Title - Forgive Me Not

Author - Spookysister7

Email address - - http/ - PG

Category - MASH

Spoilers - Post Henry

Summary - The Father meets his match.

"From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked." (Luke 12:48)

Feedback - Please, oh please, oh please! I'm young, I'm stupid, I need help! Thanx! Post anywhere! Just keep my name and let me know.

Disclaimer -

BJ and Hot Lips are not mine

They aren't making me a dime

They belong to my man, Alan

And Fox, the company of talent

Hawkeye does not belong to me

But if he did, I'd be filled with glee

Mulcahy and Potter, don't forget Klinger

Alright, I'm done, I'll no longer linger

But just remember, morning glory

They're not mine, now read the story

MASH: Forgive Me Not

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession..." The soldier in the next bunk said droningly. Father Mulcahy listened attentively, offering his ear to the young man. When the confessional was complete, Francis moved to the next cot. A young woman watched his approach with curious eyes. Father Mulcahy met her gaze, and, for one of the first times in his life, wished he had not taken a vow of celibacy. Not that she was coming on to him, but the attraction was unmistakable.

Sensing the danger of such a reaction, the Father sat quickly in the chair next to her cot. Pulling out his Bible, he opened it and stared uncomprehendingly at its pages. Never looking up, he asked his usual question.

"Would you like to confess?"

"To you? Why?" She asked, honestly curious. He looked up, startled.

"Why? I'm a priest!"

"I'm hurt, not blind, Father. Why should I confess?"

"So I can give you penance and forgive you."

"You have no power to forgive my sins, and, besides, what penance could I offer? A lamb?" She asked. Father Mulcahy sat there, stunned.

"Lamb?"

"I'm sorry, Father. That was rude of me."

"No, no. I understand. I come across many unbelievers..."

"Unbelievers? Father, I believe as strongly as you do, maybe more. But my only confession is to the one who can forgive my sins, my only penance is repentance. 'For it is by grace are you saved, not through works, lest any man should boast.' (Eph 2:8-9) My Savior is my penance, my sacrificial lamb." She finished, daring him to argue.

"Oh, well..." He stammered, caught off guard. This was the first time he'd come across anyone with beliefs this strong since he had come to Korea. And she's gorgeous. A little voice in his mind whispered, sounding suspiciously like Hawkeye.

"Father! We need you in the O.R." Klinger shouted.

"I'm sorry. I have to run."

"I understand, Father. God be with you!" She cried as he ran out the door.

"Our Father in Jesus' name..." She prayed for the person in the O.R... And for the handsome young priest.

"Hi there! I'm Hawkeye and I'll be your doctor for the evening." Pierce said, picking up the clipboard at the end of her bed.

"Uh huh, uh huh. Miss Naomi Stephens... Acute case of datelessness. I can fix that, you know." Hawkeye said with a grin.

"Stephen." She responded.

"Huh?"

"There's no s on the end, Doctor."

"Call me Hawkeye."

"What's my prognosis, Hawkeye?"

"You're fine. Minor wounds. You'll be released tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" She asked, a worried look stealing over her face.

"Yah. What's the matter? People are usually ecstatic to get out of here."

"But I've got no place to go!"

"What? Well, where did you come from?"

"I was on my way to Daegu when I got word it had been evacuated. I was staying with a friend, but the bombing started..."

"And now you're out of options." Hawkeye finished for her.

"Yah."

"What are you doing in Korea, anyway? You're not Army issue."

"I'm a missionary. I've just come from Seoul. I decided to go where I was needed."

"Ah, then you and the Father should get along fine! Remind me to introduce you."

"We've met." She said with a self-conscious smile. Hawkeye looked at her oddly.

"I'll talk to Colonel Potter. I'm sure we can find you a place to stay, at least for a little while." Hawkeye said, rising.

"Thank you for your help, Hawkeye."

"Ah, don't mention it. Just remember, we've got a date tomorrow. I'll show you around."

"Well, you've seen the Mess Tent, the nurses' tent, Colonel Potter's office, and I'd love to show you Margaret's tent, but she's quarantined for hepatitis, so welcome to the Swamp." Hawkeye said, sweeping open the door. Naomi looked around critically, and, for a moment, he regretted not picking up a little. She smiled.

"Feels like home." She said, picking up little trinkets as she walked inside. Hawkeye grinned, strangely relieved.

"Here's where BJ sleeps, and here's my cot." He said, gesturing for her to sit. She sat, and Hawkeye pulled out two martini glasses filled with gin.

"Drink?" He asked, offering the beverage. Gracefully, she took the glass, and they cheered.

"To your not so quick departure." Their glasses clinked, and he drank. Lowering his hand, he looked at her untouched drink.

"What's the matter?"

"I do not drink." She said simply.

"Oh." Pierce said in a tone that made it quite clear what he thought of teetotalers.

"Not that it is any of your business, but it is not my beliefs that keep me from drinking, just from drinking excessively. It is my family." Hawkeye looked at her, cocking his head in confusion.

"All the men on my mother's side were alcoholics. I say were because not one of them lived past age 60. All the people on my father's side are similarly stricken. So, if there is even a hint of genetic predisposition towards alcoholism, I do not want to test it." Hawkeye gulped and lowered his drink.

"Yah... I can understand that. Okay, no drinking. How about a little extracurricular activity?" He said, moving in for a kiss.

As their lips met, Father Mulcahy stood watching. His clinched jaw and white knuckles testified to the frustrated, jealous rage burning inside him. Hawkeye's kisses grew deeper as he lowered her to the cot, and an irrationally angry Father stomped off towards his tent, almost running over Klinger in the process. Klinger did a double take and swallowed, not wishing anyone to be on the receiving end of such wrath.

"Hawkeye. Hawkeye, stop." She said between kisses.

"Why? You. Taste. So. Mmmm. Good."

"Hawkeye, I said stop." Naomi said again, pushing on his chest.

"Ah, your lips say stop, but my eyes say please."

"No, Hawkeye. You're great..." He interrupted her.

"Than what are we stopping for?" He asked, leaning down for another kiss. She pressed her hand to his lips.

"But." She said. He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting her rise.

"There's always a but."

"Sorry, Hawkeye. I really like you."

"But..."

"Yah." She said, sighing.

"I've got to go. See you soon, Hawkeye." She said as she stood.

"Yah, see ya." He said, brushing a hand through his hair.

"Just not as much as I'd like to." He mumbled.

The wounded had been pouring in, and Naomi was a great help, making up for Father Mulcahy's unusual detachment. Hawkeye had tried to talk with him, to figure out what was wrong, but he was met by a cold silence. It was growing dark by the time the wounded stopped coming, and Post-Op was full to the brim. Colonel Potter sent everyone to bed, doing one last check before he hit the hay. He found a very sleepy Naomi sitting next to one of the wounded men, hands folded.

"Miss Stephen?" He asked quietly. She looked up.

"You should be getting to bed."

"Where? I gave away my spot hours ago." She stifled a yawn.

"Oh, that is a problem." Potter said, scratching his chin.

"The nurses' tent is full up, and Margaret is quarantined. I know you can't share the Swamp, and I'd let you sleep in my tent, but the wife wouldn't go for it. The only one left is Father Mulcahy. You'll be safe with him." He said, nodding.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea..." She said worriedly.

"Nonsense! It's the best solution to this quandary I've heard yet! Now, you take that cot and get over to the Padre's tent. If he gives you any trouble, tell him I sent ya."

Father Mulcahy was just finishing up his evening prayers when there was a knock on his door.

"Come in!" He said, standing. The door opened, revealing a slightly embarrassed Naomi.

"Oh! Oh, excuse me!" He said, wrapping his robe around his pajamas.

"Did you need something?" He asked finally.

"Um... Well, Post-Op is full and so is the nurses' tent, so Colonel Potter told me to bring my cot here."

"Here?" Francis asked with a squeak. He cleared his throat.

"Um, sure, okay. Come on in." He said, clearing some space against the far side.

"I'm sorry to intrude like this. If there was any other way..."

"Nonsense, nonsense. You're more than welcome." She set up her cot as Francis puttered, picking up his Bible and discarded collar. Naomi fluffed her pillow and looked around. He caught her gaze and fingered his cross nervously.

"You wouldn't happen to have an extra pair of pajamas?" She asked, looking down on her muddy attire. He thought for a second and shook his head.

"No, I gave my extra pair away..." He looked down at himself.

"I've got an idea. Will you please turn around?" He asked. She turned and he stripped off the top of his pajamas.

"Here." He said after he wrapped the robe around himself once again. She smiled appreciatively and removed her boots. She started to strip and raised an eyebrow at the Father. He turned his back, face flame red. After she had slipped under the blankets, he turned off the light and crawled into his own cot.

"Night, Father."

"Good night, Naomi, and please call me Francis."

"Good night, Francis." She said sleepily.

About four in the morning, explosions shook the camp. Father Mulcahy opened his eyes and listened to the nearby booms. He sighed as he realized it was only the land mines being set off by the temperature change. He felt movement by his shoulder and squinted in the darkness.

"Naomi?" He asked, sitting up.

"They're bombing again! I thought we were safe here. Why are they bombing us?" Naomi's frightened and nearly hysterical voice came from close by. Francis heard the terror in her voice and reached towards her. Encountering her arm in the darkness, he pulled her towards him and hugged her, stroking her hair.

"Shh, shh. It's okay. They're not bombing; it's the land mines going off. It's okay, no one's going to hurt you. Shh." He said comfortingly. She whimpered, snuggling against him like a small child. As the explosions slowed to silence, Father Mulcahy and Naomi fell into an exhausted slumber in each other's arms.

Klinger yawned, worn out from keeping watch all night. He had one last thing to do before he hit the sack. He pushed open the Padre's door and stumbled inside.

"Hey, Father..." Klinger trailed off as he took in the scene. The Father slept soundly, bare-chested. That was not what shocked Klinger. Across Father Mulcahy's bare chest was a river of auburn hair that ended at an equally slumbering Naomi, dressed only in the Father's pajama top, which ended just high enough to reveal an astounding amount of creamy leg. Klinger swallowed and backed out of the room. Eyes as big as saucers, he walked stiffly towards the Swamp, needing some advice.

"Hawkeye. Hey, Hawkeye, wake up! I need your help."

"Go away, Klinger." Pierce mumbled.

"Hawkeye! I just saw something and I can't believe my eyes. Wake up!" Klinger whispered, trying not to wake the others.

"Alright, alright. What'd you see? Another big bird with fuzzy pink feet?" Hawkeye asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"You know that girl, Naomi?"

"Yah, what about her?"

"Well, they ran out of room in Post-Op and the nurses' tent, so they put her in with Mulcahy last night."

"Lucky dog." Hawkeye said wryly.

"Luckier than you think."

"Huh?"

"I walked in the tent this morning, and guess what I found? Naomi and Mulcahy in the same bed."

"No! I don't believe it. There has to be another explanation."

"How do you explain why she had on the tops of his pajamas and he had on the bottoms?" Klinger asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No." Hawkeye said, jaw dropping.

"Why that old scoundrel!" Hawkeye laughed, rising from the cot and heading towards the showers.

"What are you going to do?" Klinger asked, trailing after him.

"Well, first I'm going to take a shower, and then I'm going over to congratulate him." Hawkeye said, slipping into the tent.

"So what do I do?"

"Get some sleep!" Hawkeye shouted from the shower.

Father Mulcahy woke up to a strange sensation. There was a comforting warmth against his right side and someone's warm breath tickled the hair on his chest. He smiled, sighing. What a great dream. He thought to himself as he closed his eyes. Naomi moved, sliding her hand down his chest, and stopping again just above his navel. His eyes suddenly shot open, remembering what had happened last night, and he looked down in a different frame of mind. Oh, no. What if someone sees us like this? They'll never believe... He didn't finish his thought. Sliding as carefully as he could, he slipped out of the bed. Standing over her sleeping body, Francis the man flushed, but Father Mulcahy picked up the blanket and covered her gently. He needed a shower, he decided. A cold one. Grabbing his robe, Father Mulcahy shot from his tent like the hounds of hell were after him, which he thought could be a definite possibility.

Reaching the showers, Father Mulcahy ran in, slamming the door shut behind him. Hawkeye whistled under the stream of water, eyes closed. Francis tried to regain some composure and went into the adjacent shower.

"Good morning, Hawkeye." The Father said, a tinge of jealousy coloring his greeting. Hawkeye's lips stretched into a grin, giving the Padre a knowing look.

"Have a good night?" He asked. Father Mulcahy looked at him, wondering if he somehow knew.

"Same as usual." Francis answered guardedly.

"Wow! If that's your usual, sign me up." Hawkeye said, scrubbing. Francis flushed. He did know.

"I don't think I understand."

"Hey, you don't have to hide with me, Father. I understand a guy's needs better than anyone, and Klinger's description left little to the imagination." Hawkeye said, grinning mischievously. Father Mulcahy's shock turned quickly to anger.

"For your information, nothing happened between Naomi and me! And, even if it had, I certainly wouldn't need your support."

"Okay, okay, Father. Sorry. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. Besides, I'm kind of relieved. I was just wondering why she would pick you over me."

"Over you?"

"Yah, she gave me the cold shoulder."

"But, I saw you kissing..."

"That's as far as we got. She said I was nice, but..." He said, trailing off and rolling his eyes.

"Oh." Is all the Father would say, jealousy fading rapidly.

"Doesn't drink, doesn't carouse. It's a wonder I ever thought you two..." Hawkeye said, toweling off.

"I understand, my son. It was a rather... scandalous position to be found in. Could you talk to Klinger and explain things?"

"Sure, Father. See ya around."

"See you, Hawkeye." Francis said absently, thinking of other things.

See you blowin' me a kiss

It doesn't take a scientist

To understand what's going on baby

If you see something in my eye

Let's not over analyze

Don't go too deep with it baby

So let it be what it'll be

Don't make a fuss and get crazy over you and me

Here's what I do, I play it loose

Not like we have a date with destiny

It's just a little crush

Not like I faint every time we touch

It's just some little thing

Not like everything I do depends on you

It's raising my adrenaline

You're bangin' on a heart of tin

Please don't make too much of it baby

Say the word forevermore

That's not what I'm looking for

All I can commit to is maybe

So let it be what it'll be

Don't make a fuss and get crazy over you and me

Here's what I do, I play it loose

Not like we have a date with destiny

It's just a little crush

Not like I faint every time we touch

It's just some little thing

Not like everything I do depends on you

Vanilla skies, white picket fences in your eyes

A vision of you and me

It's just a little crush

Not like I faint every time we touch

It's just some little thing

Not like everything I do depends on you

(Jennifer Paige- Crush)

Father Mulcahy returned to his tent, knocking hesitantly at the door.

"Come in!" Naomi said. He opened the door and flushed, shower wasted.

"Well, do you like it? I borrowed it from the nurses." She asked, swirling around in form fitting fatigues. The tight khakis showed off her figure much better than the simple peasant garb she had come in with, and the plain gray t-shirt accentuated her curves.

Father Mulcahy's voice finally returned.

"Um, yes, well, it's very flattering."

"Oh, thanks! I'm so glad you like it!" She said, giving him a quick hug.

"I promised I'd meet Marge in the Mess Tent for breakfast. I'd better get going. See you later Francis, and thanks for letting me share your tent." She waved as she headed towards the Mess Tent. Father Mulcahy's eyes followed her of their own accord, and, as he turned back to his empty tent, he sighed.

The day passed with more casualties, and by the time they stopped coming, Father Mulcahy was dead on his feet. He had really enjoyed working with Naomi. She relieved much of his burden, comforting the wounded men and consoling him after a string of last rites. She had disappeared about an hour ago, but he was too busy to find out where she had gone. Stumbling towards his tent, he removed the tight collar and fixed his glasses. He opened his door, and, much to his surprise, saw a rather elaborate feast set before him.

"What?" He exclaimed in astonishment. Naomi lit the candle.

"Well, I knew neither of us had a chance to eat, and I thought a private dinner would be just the thing after such a busy day. Besides, I had some things I wanted to talk about."

"This is wonderful! Where did you get all this food?" He asked, sniffing appreciatively.

"I made friends with the cook, and he let me experiment with a couple of dishes. I have to be careful, or he'll draft me as his apprentice!" She said with a grin. Gesturing towards the chair, she sat. Francis joined her at the small table.

"Well, you have your choice of drinks. Grape NEHI or club soda?" They decided on the NEHI and took a drink.

"Ahh, 1950 NEHI, a good choice." Naomi said with a smile. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. The Father was again pleasantly surprised. It had been a long time since someone else had blessed the food. After grace, they ate.

"Wow! This is delicious. Better not let Colonel Potter taste any of this, he'd demote the cook."

"Thanks. Um, Francis, this is as good a time as any, but, is it okay if I sleep here again? Because, I would understand if you wanted me to leave. I apologize for last night, and I really don't want to be a stumbling block or temptation..." She trailed off, waiting for his reply.

"Oh, Naomi, you're not a stumbling block. I would be pleased to have you stay again." They ignored the absence of a denial of temptation, and continued with their meal.

As they climbed into their cots, they both pulled out a Bible. Looking over at each other's identical instincts, they smiled.

"The only thing I saved." She said simply. He nodded and they went back to their reading. Usually, Father Mulcahy read in an orderly fashion, but tonight, he let the pages open where they may. He began to read. "It is better to marry than to burn with passion." (1 Cor 7:9) He swallowed and turned the page, Naomi's sweet rose scent accompanying every move in his returned pajama top.

"This is my defense to those who sit in judgment on me. Don't we have the right to food and drink? Don't we have the right to take a believing wife along with us, as do the other apostles and the Lord's brothers and Peter? ... Who serves as a soldier at his own expense? Who plants a vineyard and does not eat of its grapes? Who tends a flock and does not drink of the milk? Do I say this from merely a human point of view? Doesn't the Law say the same thing? For it is written in the Law of Moses: 'Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain.' Is it about oxen that God is concerned?" (1 Cor 9:3-5, 7-9)

Father Mulcahy shut the Bible. What was God trying to tell him? He opened the Bible again.

"A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies... She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue... Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." (Proverbs 31:10, 25-26, 30)

He snuck a glimpse at the woman in his tent, thinking how apt the passage was. She was all these things and more.

She, too, was reading. Naomi's Bible was open to the book she was studying that week, and she was astounded by what she read.

"For some are eunuchs because they were born that way; others were made that way by men; and others have renounced marriage because of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it." (Matt 19:12)

She looked over at Father Mulcahy, wondering if he had truly received it. She turned to another book, trying to avoid the thoughts that crept into her head.

"But if you do marry, you have not sinned; and if a virgin marries, she has not sinned. But those who marry will face many troubles in this life, and I want to spare you this." (1 Cor 7:28)

Troubles, indeed. Her thoughts strayed to last night, and she flipped to one of her favorite verses.

"So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall! No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." (1 Cor 10:12-13)

She swallowed, looking over at the Father. She was standing, but just barely. If only he wasn't Catholic! She thought, turning over in bed and putting the Bible away. I've always wanted to be a preacher's wife. Naomi mused as she dosed off.

Father Mulcahy looked up from his Bible and smiled. Taking off his glasses, he turned off the light.

"Good night, Naomi." He whispered. She moaned softly in response.

I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,

Or tell you that.

But if I didn't say it,

Well I'd still have felt it

Where's the sense in that?

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder

Or return to where we were

I will go down with this ship

And I won't put my hands up and surrender

There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love and always will be

I know I left too much mess and

destruction to come back again

And I caused nothing but trouble

I understand if you can't talk to me again

And if you live by the rules of "it's over"

Then I'm sure that that makes sense

I will go down with this ship

And I won't put my hands up and surrender

There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love and always will be

And when we meet

Which I'm sure we will

All that was there

Will be there still

I'll let it pass

And hold my tongue

And you will think

That I've moved on...

I will go down with this ship

And I won't put my hands up and surrender

There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love and always will be

(White Flag- Dido)

"Father! Phone call! It's an emergency!" Klinger said, bursting in the door. Father Mulcahy shot up in bed and slipped on his glasses.

"Who is it?" He asked as he tied his robe.

"It's the orphanage! The dam upstream is about to blow, and they need help getting the children out of there."

"Oh, my goodness!" The Father said, running towards the office. Naomi wrapped her borrowed robe around herself and ran to his side.

"Can I help?"

"I'm sure we'll need all the help we can get."

The jeep bounced along the road as they raced towards the orphanage.

"Oh, I hope we get there in time!" The Father said, skidding around the turns.

"Let's pray." Naomi responded, bowing her head.

"Our Father, in Jesus' name, please bless our drive and help us reach the orphanage in time. Please hold the dam back until we get there, and allow us to get all the children out safely. Whatever is your will, Lord, help us to do. Give us your strength and wisdom, and thank you for the ability to help these children. In Jesus' name, amen."

"Amen." The Father agreed, crossing himself.

They made it to the orphanage, and he jumped out of the jeep.

"Sister Theresa!" Father Mulcahy called as he ran to the building.

"Father! Oh, you have to help me! Two of the children are missing, and I can't leave the rest to go look for them! Please, find them!" Sister Theresa cried, shoving children into the bus as fast as she could.

"You go, Sister, we'll be right behind you." The Father said.

"Soung Lee and Lau went looking for firewood, headed south, please find them."

"We will, Sister, don't worry. Just get these children out of here." He said, running towards the jeep. Naomi was gone.

"Naomi! Naomi!" He shouted, looking around frantically. He couldn't waste time, so he ran a hand through his hair and jogged south, after the children. The farther south he went, the worse it looked. If the dam broke, water would flood this valley in a matter of seconds.

"Soung Lee! Lau! Children!" He cried, searching desperately. He listened for a response, and to his astonishment, someone answered.

"Francis! Help! Hurry!" Naomi cried from his left.

"Naomi!"

"Hurry, Francis!" Father Mulcahy ran towards her voice and skidded to a stop at the edge of a precipice.

"Naomi!"

"Down here!" She cried. He searched the water meters below him for her familiar face. Two children stood on a quickly submerging rock, clinging to Naomi. He looked around for any way to climb down and help but could see nothing.

"Francis! I'm going to bring them to you! Lie on your stomach and reach down!" She shouted over the roar of the river. Lifting one of the children to her shoulders, she waded across the river, hip deep. She struggled to a secure place below Francis' overhang and lifted the child.

"Got him!" Francis cried, grabbing the child by the wrists and pulling him to safety. As he watched, Naomi struggled back to the dot of rock the other child clung to, the water now chest deep. She got the child securely on her shoulders, and half-swam back to Francis.

"Okay!" Father Mulcahy said, dragging the other child up. He reached his hands back towards hers. As their hands connected, a mighty roar rumbled from the north. Both of their faces turned towards the sound and they paled.

"It's the dam!" Naomi shouted, struggling to get the leverage necessary to pull herself up the wall. Francis couldn't help her, only barely able to hold on as it was. She slipped and their hands almost slid apart.

"Hold on, Naomi!" Francis shouted, trying to pull her up. The dirt beneath his overhang was eroding and the edges started to crumble. The ground beneath his torso gave way, and he was only anchored by his legs. She looked up at him, the roar growing ever closer and the water stronger.

"Francis, take care of the children."

"We will, as soon as I get you out of there." Francis said, grunting against the pull of the current.

"Francis. You have to run." She said quietly. He squinted at her, not understanding.

"I love you, Francis." She said, letting go of his wrists. Her fingers slipped from his hand and she plunged into the river.

"Naomi!" He screamed, hands grasping futilely at the raging water.

One of the children pulled on his shirt, and he looked back uncomprehendingly. The little boy pointed towards a huge wall of water visible upstream. Survival took over. Snatching the children up in each arm, Father Mulcahy ran up the hill, racing for higher ground. He wasn't a sprinter, but the roar of impending death pushed him on as never before. The little group reached the top of the steep hill and stopped. Looking around, Father Mulcahy could see that the hill was about as high as they could get in time. A large, strong tree perched atop the hill and the lowest branches were just above his reach. Without a second thought, he lifted the children towards the branch.

"Climb!" He commanded, gesturing towards the top of the tree.

"Hold on!" He shouted after them once they had climbed as high as they could. They wrapped their thin arms around the branch and hung on for dear life. Father Mulcahy pulled off his belt and threw it around the tree, catching the other end. He tied the ends to both wrists. Silently, he prayed, and, as he prayed, he cried. The wall of water hit, and the Father knew no more.

"The jeep is still here. They must not have made it." Hawkeye said, kicking the halfway submerged jeep angrily.

"They could still be alive. Have a little faith." BJ said.

"Faith? Yah, look where that got them." Hawkeye sneered, angry at the unfairness of it all.

"They come out here to save children, and now they're both gone. What kind of God allows that!" Hawkeye screamed to the heavens. A little voice answered.

"Joe! Joe!" The lisping voice of a small boy cried from nearby. Hawkeye and BJ spun, astonished to see a muddy little boy running towards them.

"Hey, where did you come from?" BJ asked as the boy slid to a stop in front of him. The boy grabbed his hand, pulling BJ towards the direction he had just come from.

"Hep! Fadder! Hep!" He cried, pulling on BJ's arm. Hawkeye and BJ looked at each other, and BJ nodded.

"Okay, we're coming." He told the boy, grabbing his medical bag. The two men and the boy ran towards the hill. Wading through several inch deep puddles of mud, they struggled through the refuse lrft in the wake of the tsunami.

They followed the little boy to the hill, running past him as they saw another boy seated next to the Father's prone body. The boy was crying. Hawkeye checked on the Father as BJ led the little boy away. BJ tried to comfort him, holding him close. He was only a few years older than the other boy.

"What happened?" BJ asked, trying to understand the child's speech.

"We stuck in middle of river. Lady save us, but lady fall in river. Father save us from big water. Put us in tree. I try help him. Untie arms. He not move. Father die too." The boy finished, crying bitter tears. BJ comforted him as the other boy watched Hawkeye work.

Hawkeye checked the body over, noting the numerous lacerations and contusions scattered over the Father's back, his shirt ripped through in places. There was no pulse, and, as Hawkeye turned him on his side, muddy water poured from Father Mulcahy's open mouth. Hawkeye dropped his head, eyes filling with tears. BJ looked up from the sobbing boy with a question in his eyes. Hawkeye shook his head, and BJ held the boy closer, feeling like sobbing himself.

"He tied himself to the tree so he wouldn't leave them. Too long underwater, too many things hitting him, I don't know. He didn't make it." Hawkeye said, plopping down into the mud.

"It just isn't fair." He spat bitterly.

"I found out what happened." BJ said quietly. Hawkeye looked up, prepared for the worst by the look on BJ's face.

"Naomi pulled them from the river near here, but I guess the current was too much for her. Father Mulcahy must have heard the dam break. He put the children in the tree. He saved them." The little boy in BJ's arms pulled away and ran to the Father's body.

"He save us, we save him." He said, touching Francis' face. Hawkeye reached to pull him away, but BJ stopped him.

"How?" BJ asked.

"Sister say God hear prayer. I ask God save him." Hawkeye started to comment, but BJ interrupted him, shaking his head.

"God. Father save us from water, you save Father. Amen." The boy prayed, eyes closed.

"Amen." BJ and Hawkeye muttered. After a few seconds of silence, Hawkeye bent down and picked up the little boy. The boy looked at him.

"Let's go." Hawkeye said, turning from the body. The little boy squirmed, looking back.

"Wait. No go. I pray." He said earnestly.

"Sometimes, God doesn't answer prayers the way we want him to." BJ said, picking up the other little boy.

"Sister say God always hear prayer. He long way away. Take time." Hawkeye smiled slightly and paused.

"Yah, Beej. God is a long way away." Hawkeye turned back to the Padre.

"Bye, Father." He whispered. The Father coughed.

You never saw two men move faster. After spitting up most of the water, with assistance from Hawkeye and BJ, Francis hugged the children tightly. They were grinning and laughing, exuberant with the powers their prayer had. The Father smiled.

"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Mark 10:14" The Father coughed out, grasping Hawkeye's arm.

"Naomi?" He asked hopefully. Hawkeye shook his head. Father Mulcahy nodded and tried to stand. With Hawkeye's help, he got to his feet. They began the long trek back to the jeep.

"How did you find us?" Father Mulcahy asked as they walked. He had not realized how far they had come until now.

"The youngest boy, Lau, came and got us. Otherwise, we'd have never found you." BJ said.

"Lau, how did you get all the way back there? And why? You couldn't have known they were there." Father Mulcahy asked.

"Lady shoe me." Lau said, half asleep on BJ's shoulder. The Father's head shot up.

"The same lady that saved you from the river? Naomi?" He asked desperately.

"No. Her called Mara." Lau said, yawning. Father Mulcahy paled and began to talk under his breath.

"What, Father? Who's Mara?" Hawkeye asked, worried that they had another person that needed help.

"And she said, 'Do not call me Naomi. Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter.' Ruth 1:20. Naomi means pleasant, but Mara means bitter." The Father said, looking up.

"So, who's Mara?" Hawkeye asked warily. BJ met his eyes as Father Mulcahy quoted another scripture.

"Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels, unaware." (Hebrews 13:2)

END

Something is wrong with the sum of us

That I can't seem to erase

How can I be the only one

Without a smile on my face?

Well now, you're laughing out loud

At just the thought of being alive

And I was wondering

Could I just be you tonight?

You show your pain like it really hurts

And I can't even start to feel mine

Well, I'm standing in place

With my head first and I shake, I shake

I see your progress stretched out for miles and miles

You're laughing out loud

At just the thought of being alive, yeah

And I was wondering

Could I just be you tonight?

This is the sound that I make

These are the words I chose

Somehow the right thing to say

Just won't come out

Just won't come out

And you're laughing out loud

At the thought of being alive

And I was wondering

Could I just be you tonight?

And I was wondering

Could I just be you tonight?

(Could I Be You- Matchbox20)


End file.
